


Protecting

by jcause



Series: The Untold Moments of Bering & Wells [2]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcause/pseuds/jcause
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to my previous Warehouse fic 'Longing'. It follows the events of episode 415 (Instinct) immediately after Myka drives away with Pete. Helena is left in the driveway processing what has happened and answering to more than her own emotions.  Myka is trying to focus on work while Pete thinks they are both being ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Friends.” As the SUV pulled away Helena's heart sank. Having had a long, unique, life she had endured enough good-byes to fill multiple lifetimes but Myka driving away had to be the hardest. "There was only one way for this to play out," Helena reminded herself as she took a deep breath.

Sneaking away from Myka's bed in the middle of the night so many months before had been painful but not as painful as looking into her hurt and confused eyes as she offered up support for the path Helena was seemingly on.  Had Myka fought, any resolve Helena had left would have been destroyed.  

Thankfully, despite Myka's book smarts and grasp of language, the brunette with the curly hair and the shy smile hadn't managed the words Helena knew we're bubbling under the surface.  Hearing the unspoken would have been enough for Helena to climb in the SUV with Myka and go wherever she asked.  The problem, Myka would have wanted them to go back to the Warehouse and that wasn't an option.  Helena had a debt to repay the Regents and obviously, as she was still assigned, they weren’t yet satisfied that she had done as they required of her. Fighting back the emotions that were creeping to the surface Helena hated how her poor choices had brought such pain, yet again, to a woman she fit with so perfectly. 

A cool breeze crept into the air.  "Next time I go it alone," Helena's words weren't to the night but instead the figure that she knew had appeared in the driveway.  The rest of the Warehouse tended to jump when the figure appeared but Helena was used to the unexpected. Before she had the chance to turn and face the guest, Helena's statement got a reply.

"I am very sorry it had to play out as it did," the tone was sincere and the voice unmistakable.

"Centuries of experience protecting the world from artifacts and you insisted I reach out to them, to her," Helena exclaimed as she turned to face Mrs. Frederic. "I was more than capable of solving this by myself."

"The priority was protecting Adelaide and we nearly lost her even with the team involved.  The Regents felt that splitting your focus between the artifact’s retrieval and the child was too great a risk."

"Believe me when I say, my focus was split."

Mrs. Frederic nodded.  "But you all persevered."

"No thanks to me dragging Myka through an unnecessary reunion."

"It was unfortunate that an artifact landed in your lap but the safe retrieval was crucial."

"Above all else," Helena mumbled under her breath.  "If there is ever a next time I will not put her through that again."

"Or yourself," Mrs. Frederic offered kindly but pointedly.

"I can handle it but Myka is in the dark and that makes none of this fair to her. The last she knew I was sent away by all of you to complete a task. To her it now looks as if I have finished that task and settled into a stable existence without even a word."

The older woman politely ignored the true meaning behind Helena’s poorly veiled explanation. "Despite the personal connection the two of you share, Agents Bering and Lattimer were the best warehouse agents for the job."

"Any of them could have handled this," the comment brought no response, which only made Helena angry but not wanting to continue stirring things up she re-focused the conversation. "So my cover is blown. I assume I will be replaced."

"The Regents don't believe that will be necessary."

"How can that be?  Continuing to lie to Nate is futile.  He knows I'm not who I claim to be."

"You are Helena Wells, a former federal agent in witness protection."

"So, more lies."

Compassion filled the older woman’s face. "They are necessary."

"So you keep saying."

"The child has grown fond of you and so her father will get over his concerns."

"To what end?"

"May I remind you that the child's mother was killed in her daughter's presence.”

Mrs. Frederic’s reminder wasn’t necessary but certainly trumped Helena’s moment of selfish longing. Turning back towards where the car drove away Helena sighed.  "I know why I am here. Protect Adelaide, which is difficult when you won't explain why or from whom."

"Just know we are all very grateful for your commitment."

"Obligation." Helena said with the guilt of her past mistakes influencing each syllable.  Turning back towards Mrs. Frederic it wasn't surprising that the old woman was gone. 

Alone in the driveway of a suburban home, Helena G. Wells sighed.

Myka had been right.  Adelaide's presence in her life had caused Helena to cherish her as much as she had her Christina.  The death of her own daughter, so many decades before, had broken Helena’s spirit and hardened her soul.  The actions she had taken since Christina’s death were selfish and destructive and then Myka Bering came along.  The smart, savvy, and beautiful Warehouse agent had made Helena want to be a better person and yet the ache of losing a child still lingered under the surface. It had even led Helena to place a gun to Myka’s temple but somehow the connection Helena felt for her fellow Warehouse agent began to heal some of the old, deep wounds and she surrendered.

Since having to walk away from Myka, it was Adelaide who had unknowingly helped Helena to hold onto her rediscovered humanity.  The child had begun as a task assigned by her superiors but had turned into a touchstone. The smart, grounded, child, who the Regents were so focused on protecting, reminded Helena of the innocence of youth and the wonder of learning; so much so that not even brief possession of the astrolabe or access to the Warehouse had tempted Helena to do anything drastic with the powerful artifacts within arm's reach. There was a peace within Helena she never thought possible.

She and Myka Bering had switched places.  Where before Helena had been the unpredictable loose cannon it was now a world of suburban calm for her, while Myka ran around saving the world.  Helena told herself the assignment wasn't forever but she feared it might be.  Helena told herself Myka would understand in the end but feared she never would.

Having spent a few days with Myka close enough to hold her in her arms, Helena realized the time for being the good solider was over.  Suddenly a selfish curiosity as to why Adelaide needed protecting crept into Helena’s mind.

When Jane Latimer had assigned her the task of growing close to Nate and his daughter in order to keep the girl safe, Helena had seen it as a means to an end.  Protect them and some day she would be allowed a clean slate and maybe a chance to return to a life of adventure, maybe be with the woman she loved.  The problem was the time frame was no longer to Helena’s liking. After seeing the pain her new, secret, life was causing Myka it was time to stop playing house and start being H.G. Wells. There was a mystery to solve and she was determined to solve it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you coming inside?" Adelaide asked from her place at the top of the driveway. 

Helena was startled by the young girl's question. Somehow Helena was attuned to Mrs. Frederics' arrival but not that of a young girl. It either reinforced how unique the child was or how frustrated Helena had become after the older woman's visit.

Turning to Adelaide, Helena made an effort to alter her body language as to not give the young girl pause. Her powers of observation rivaled even Helena's and she didn't want to alarm her or raise questions. "I have some stuff to deal with at the office."

"You think my dad's mad."

"Well, that didn't work," Helena, thought. No point masking anything. "There is that."

"It wasn't your fault and you and Myka rescued me."

"I'm not sure your father sees it that way."

"He's just confused."

"He has reason to be."

Adelaide nodded. "Because you lied before."

It was a statement and not a question. What else had the she noticed?

"You and your friend Myka, you had adventures together, didn't you?"

The question wasn't at all what Helena expected. "We did," she answered, hesitantly. 

"She's your best friend."

The vocabulary was that of a young person but the tone Adelaide asked the question was that of someone much older. Although she didn't have the words to properly present the observation she was grasping at, Helena knew that Adelaide understood the exact nature of things. "Yes, she is."

The child's eyebrows rose. "But you let her leave."

"Yes."

"Is my dad going to get hurt?"

"I don't want that and it's why I think I should go and work at the office tonight."

Adelaide nodded and then her face grew sad. "You're here to help me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because all the pieces fit."

Helena's admiration for the young girl's intelligence grew, as did her curiosity. Teaching Adelaide the finer points of body language, tone of voice, and general observation was one thing but her analytical thinking was phenomenal for someone so young. "What pieces?"

"Well, to begin with the way we met. Dad had taken me to my cooking class and you were in the parking lot having issues with your car. You've never had issues with it since."

"Cars can be tricky. I don't have a lot of experience with them but I'm a fast learner."

"My dad barely wiggled something under the hood and the car started almost immediately. You rigged it.”

Again, it was not a question. Honesty was the only approach that wouldn’t alienate the young girl. "I did. What else have you noticed?"

"Stuff I saw you hiding around the house like in the garage and the basement. It didn't seem like it was everyday stuff. It seemed special. I'm I in danger? Is my dad?" 

Bending down to the child's level Helena gently took Adelaide's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "As long as I'm here I will do everything in my power to make sure you and your father are safe."

“I believe you.” In a rare moment of affection she wrapped her arms tightly around Helena's neck. Following the child's lead, Helena hugged her back. With the tiny frame engulfed in a hug, Helena caught Nate watching the pair of them from the front window. The second he was spotted he walked away from where he stood.

As the hug broke, Helena saw tiny tears on Adelaide's cheek. The young girl brushed them away with the side of her hand. "Why would someone want to hurt me?"

"I don't know."

Adelaide's eyes didn't waiver from Helena's. "Could you find out?"

There was only one answer to the question. "Yes."

…

The SUV pulled to a stop at the red light and the only reason Myka Bering noticed was because Pete decided there had been enough silence. "We aren't talking about it, right? I mean we could talk about it. Partners talk about things but I'm thinking we aren't talking about it."

This was the last thing Myka needed. "We aren't talking about it."

"I thought so."

Out of the corner of her eye Myka noticed the streetlight turn green but the vehicle didn't budge. "Pete, the light's green."

"You know we could talk about it."

"Pete, the light," Myka repeated as she gestured forward. 

"No one is around and the police chief is in jail. I can sit at a green light."

"Go."

"We should talk."

"Pete!"

"See, if we talk you won't be as upset and you'll stop yelling at me when you really want to be yelling at her."

"What do you know about it?"

"I've dated my share of challenging women, was even married to one."

Myka exhaled. "There's nothing to talk about."

"There is plenty to talk about."

"She's happy."

"Mykes, for someone who kicks butt at observation you were missing things back there."

"Would you please drive before someone comes up behind us and slams into the car."

"On an empty suburban road at midnight?"

"Pete, drive!"

"Myka, talk," Pete put his foot on the accelerator and pulled thru the barely green light.

They made it exactly one block and Myka broke the silence. "She's where she needs to be. That's what matters."

"What matters is that you, want where she needs to be, to be with you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Claud told me she ran into HG the night she disappeared."

"So."

"So..."

Myka could actually hear Pete's eyebrows rise as he drove through the dark streets of Boone, Wisconsin. He scored some points with her by not adding childish musical accompaniment with his comment but not many. "It's in the past. She's happy."

"You're wrong."

"Pete, it was all there in front of us. She's found somewhere she fits."

"She fits at the Warehouse. This is about that kid and you know it."

"So what. If that's what she needs."

"To try and rewrite the past? She can't. No one can. Believe me I've tried."

"If that's true she needs to figure that out for herself."

"We both know I could just turn the car around and make you talk some sense into her."

"But you won't."

"How do you know?"

"Cause on some level you get it or you wouldn't have wished her luck."

"Doesn't mean I think it's where she belongs."

The sweet sincerity in Pete's voice gripped Myka's heart like a vise. He had gone from having total distain for Helena to seeing her as one of them. He had gone from thinking Myka a pain in his butt to looking out for her like a big brother. If Myka had allowed herself to feel the depth of his statement the locked up tears would have flowed freely. Instead, she glanced back out the window beside her and mumbled under her breath. "There we agree."

Before the conversation could develop any further a Farnsworth sitting next to them in the cup holder buzzed. Myka reached over and opened it. After pushing the button on the face of the device, their boss Artie Nielsen stared back at her in the lens. "Everything okay, Artie?"

"It's fine. All good here but we got a ping."

Pete grumbled from the driver's seat. "Aww, seriously, Artie, we haven't slept in days. Can't Jinxy and Claudia handle it?"

"No, they can't. I need their help cleaning up some stuff around here. You two are it."

"That's fine, Artie. Where are we headed?" Myka asked like a dutiful employee.

"Winnipeg. A twenty-three year old is in the hospital after a heart attack that has no medical explanation.

Pete grumbled again. "There are thousands of reasons someone so young could have a heart attack."

"No. Medical. Reason." Artie reiterated. "And it's the third such case in five months."

"Comedy and bad stuff... always happening in threes," Pete offered in a relenting tone.

"We're on it," Myka interrupted.

"Great. Check in after you see the victim. In the meantime I will run any known artifacts that induce heart attacks."

Pete rolled his eyes and pulled the car to a stop at another red light. "Try a bacon double cheeseburger."

Artie didn't even give Pete the satisfaction of responding and cut off the transmission. Myka closed the Farnsworth and placed it back in the cup holder. "Guess we are off to Winnipeg.”


	3. Chapter 3

Protecting 3

Helena awoke with a start. Shaking off a nightmare she couldn't quite recall, she looked to the wall and noticed it was a little before 5am. She hadn't been asleep long. Last she remembered she had been compiling data using a computer in her office. Falling asleep when researching wasn't typically something Helena did. She supposed the time spent trying to locate the artifact and recovering Adelaide had taken its toll. 

Glancing at the computer screen she had been focused on before falling asleep, brought back the line of investigation she had been working on at the time. A series of boxes, Claudia had once taught her were called windows, were open on the screen. Every one of them was tied to Adelaide's traceable family history. 

Her father, Nate, could be best described as normal. He had a regular job and came from regular parents who also came from regular parents. Nothing remarkable or out of order had surfaced in her investigation of him. Had Helena not known him as well as she did, she might have been suspicious of that much normal but the research matched the man, perfectly. 

As normal as Nate was, Adelaide's deceased mother was far from it, because she barely existed. Other than the woman's marriage and death notices as well as Adelaide’s birth announcement there was no trail. It was window after window of dead ends, the kind that screamed 'mystery'. 

From her own life experience, Helena knew that very few people in the world were truly untraceable unless someone needed them to be. Many a search for artifacts during her original tenure as a Warehouse agent had been cluttered with ‘untraceables’, almost all of which were tied to something far from legal. So why would a seemingly normal suburban woman killed in a horrible car accident have no life outside her marriage, her death, and the birth of her daughter? 

Lacking the skills to dig any further in this century, Helena knew only one person she could trust to help her in her search and keep it a secret. It would be difficult to reach out without being found out but she had promised Adelaide she would try to get to the bottom of things. This was now about more than Helena's own selfish desire to move on from the assignment.

Logging into an email service Helena had once asked for help setting up, she quickly composed a message. She then carefully typed each letter and number of another email address she had committed to memory. A final review of the message and she pushed send and hoped that the address was as secret and secure as Claudia had once promised. 

...

Throwing his duffle on the bed Pete Lattimer surveyed the hotel room while fighting off a yawn. He guessed he had managed about eight hours sleep in the last three days. Due to the nature of the new investigation Artie had sent them on Pete figured he could manage about six hours sleep before he and Myka would be allowed access to the victim. Even with federal agency credentials, hospital red tape usually limited them to general visiting hours especially in foreign countries. 

Stripping down into something more comfortable to sleep in Pete tossed his clothes on a chair and then yanked out his toothbrush and paste. Good dental hygiene was as important as protecting the world but a shower could wait until morning. 

While brushing his teeth Pete stared at himself in the mirror. Nearing four years of working as a Warehouse Agent had been great in some ways and terrible in others. Upside, he enjoyed his new mission in life, had discovered a family of people he would take a bullet for, and had remained clean and sober. The downside was the bags under his eyes were starting to grow bags. The work wasn't exactly without stress. 

On the corner of his eyes were also the tiniest of lines. Most people wouldn't notice them amongst his other boy next-door features but of course Pete saw them. He had his health and loved his job so he reminded himself that a little wrinkle or two was nothing in the grand scheme. Rinsing his mouth out with the hotel provided mouthwash he placed his toothbrush in a glass on the counter and headed back towards the bedroom. 

He supposed it was his own coming to grips with aging that had caused him to wish Helena luck in her new life. It had been a selfish and something he deeply regretted the moment he had said it. People like Helena, or Myka, or himself weren't built for normal. They had seen too much and done even more; settling down was impossible. 

Fighting off another yawn, Pete pulled back the covers and started to climb in as his mind began to run into overdrive. How could someone as bold and adventuresome as HG Wells throw away her life for normal? The bouncing around in his head suddenly turned dark and Pete had one of his very bad feelings. He hadn't experienced one this all consuming since Leena, their co-worker and friend, had been recently murdered. 

Doing his best to shake off the feeling, he continued to climb into bed and pulled the covers over himself. Closing his eyes he tried to allow sleep to gain his mind's attention. It only seemed to make matters worse. Lying there, in the darkened room, thanks to floor to ceiling curtains pulled tight across the windows, Pete couldn't shake the feeling that was gripping him. 

If the situations were reversed and Pete was HG what would he need to settle for normal? The conclusion, with all things being equal, he would have no reason. Work came first. In fact work had come first in every instance since joining the Warehouse, even when he was ready to settle down with Kelly. Work still played a part in his decision. He was ready to open up his world to her not leave his life behind for her.

It was like a key sliding easily into a lock and turning. He knew why Helena was living her life in suburbia. She was working. The realization didn't help any; it made it worse. For such dark, bad, feelings to be washing over him, Pete hoped he was wrong but was certain Helena was in some kind of danger. 

Pete couldn’t just stand-by and do nothing. If there was still a chance to turn things from bad to good he had to too act on his concerns. The question was how to step in and help. If Helena was working for, say the Regents, they weren’t going to let him walk into some top-secret mission. If they felt Helena needed backup certainly they would have sent her someone. No, Pete knew he had to go off the radar to offer his assistance. No one could know the true nature of what he was doing. 

Grabbing his cell, Pete dialed the one person he could count on to help back his play. If he was going to go outside his responsibility to the Warehouse but for reasons that were, at their core, honorable, there was only person he could trust to be his alibi. 

It was early on the east coast, but he knew Amanda would already be at her desk on her second cup of coffee. His ex-wife was a creature of military trained habit. She answered on the second ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the Pete that the TV show forgot existed when they wrote the final few episodes of the series. The caring big brother who would have done anything to see Myka happy was the Pete that made the show special and not just another in a long line of hetero romantic tropes. He's the Pete I enjoy celebrating.


	4. Chapter 4

Pete didn't exactly tell Amanda the whole story. He had decided to go with 'needing to help a friend who was in trouble' excuse. It was as close to the truth as he felt he could go without risking a lecture from his ex-wife or, worse, her trying to change his mind. Amanda had balked when he told her he needed to keep the Warehouse from knowing what he was up to but she eventually relented after Pete explained helping out the friend could also help out Myka. It was obvious to him that when she met his Warehouse partner that Amanda liked Myka. More accurately that she liked Myka’s positive influence on Pete. 

They formed a plausible reason for her needing Pete's help. The military didn't need a confirmed artifact sighting to enlist his assistance so Amanda suggested Pete tell Artie she had called him after witnessing an unexplained phenomenon. It would give them not only a smokescreen but an easy solution when nothing would, obviously, turn up during the imaginary assist. One piece of his plan had fallen into place. 

After a quick call to Artie, Pete had the leave he needed. His boss’s only stipulation was that if things turned ‘Warehousee’ with Amanda, Pete was to check in immediately. Pete gave Artie just enough resistance on his request as to not raise any red flags and Artie explained Steve would be placed on a plane to Winnipeg so Myka had back up. Any lingering concerns about the case Pete was bailing on were immediately resolved by Artie's plan. 

Not big on lying Pete reminded himself that this mission was for the greater good and if Artie knew what he was really up it would be shut down. Convinced HG needed back-up, Pete couldn't afford interference that might only make matters worse. 

The next phone call was to Myka, who Pete woke up. 

"Hello," the groggy voice of his partner whispered into the phone. 

"Sorry to wake you Mykes."

"Pete, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry, but something's come up."

"What?"

"Amanda called."

"Is everything, okay?" Myka asked, her voice instantly alert and with great concern in her tone. 

"She's okay but worried about some unexplained thing on base so she called asking for my help."

"When are we leaving?"

Pete could hear Myka climbing her way out of bed and starting to move about her hotel room. 

"We aren't. Artie's sending Steve in the morning to back you up. I'm leaving in a few for the airport."

"Are you sure you don't need me to come along?"

"No, it's probably nothing. Some strange military maneuver that she's not aware of or something but I thought it was better to check on it."

"Of course. Well, call if you need anything."

"I will. Go back to sleep. Get some rest."

"Travel safe."

“Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Another necessary lie complete and Pete packed up his stuff. 

When he got to the hotel lobby he withdrew just enough cash from an ATM to get him what he needed without it looking like what it was, cash so that he could stay off the radar. He would change it from Canadian to US dollars when he reached the airport. The exchange rate would ding him but he couldn’t leave a trail. 

After he put the money in his wallet, he grabbed an envelope and a blank sheet of paper from the front desk and quickly scribbled a note and put an address on the envelope. Shoving one of his credit cards in with the note and sealing the envelope, Pete bought enough postage from the desk attendant and tipped him well to mail it. 

Amanda and her husband were to use the card, sparingly, while Pete was AWOL. If the Warehouse went hunting, at first glance, nothing would seem out of place. Pete would have also sent his ATM card but he didn't want to explain why, after all these years, his pin code was still Amanda's birthday. 

After arriving at the airport, Pete purchased a ticket, using a credit card and ID that matched one of his alias passports from his days working for the more traditional arm of the US government. Unless someone were to review airport feeds his one hour and forty-five minute flight to Milwaukee was now untraceable. 

The one hole in his plan was not being on the flight to Virginia but he solved that as well. Going to another airline he purchased, in his name and with his ATM card, a ticket on an earlier departing flight to Norfolk. After some quick manipulation on the jet way he managed to get his ticket scanned and then told one of the flight attendants on the plane that he wasn't feeling well enough to fly. 

There was a chance they would go back and mark him having not flown but it was the only thing he could think of to establish breadcrumbs to Virginia. Pete considered calling a friend who worked high up in the federal aviation administration and owed Pete a favor, but he didn't want to mess with the airlines anymore than he already was doing. 

His ducks in a row Pete barely managed to sit down in his middle seat, at the back of the early morning flight to Milwaukee, before falling fast asleep. 

\---

Sitting at her desk with the office door locked, Helena clicked the link she had been sent at the exact moment she had been instructed to do so. When she did, a window on her computer opened and a light went on indicating her camera was live. Helena's screen filled with the face of Claudia Donovan. 

"To say your message was a surprise was an understatement. What's up?"

"Thanks for answering, Claudia."

"Least I could do."

"Hardly."

"What can I help with?"

Helena took a deep breath. Trust wasn’t easy for her and neither was asking for help. "Before I tell you anything I need your word that you will keep all of this just between us."

"If you promise me you aren't going to go all evil on us again."

It was a fair request. "I promise."

"Good enough for me." Claudia said as she took a long sip from what Helena assumed was coffee.

Helena smiled at the younger woman's casual way of indicating her faith in her was returned. "I need your utmost discretion."

"I assumed. It's not every day I get an email to that account. So what do you need?"

"I have hit an impasse looking for information. I need your expertise." 

"Hard to find information. You've come to the right place." The air of confidence from Claudia was something that could never be mistaken for arrogance. She was, in a word, endearing.

"I'm living with a family in Wisconsin."

"Pete and Myka mentioned Wisconsin but what's this thing with you and a family?" The thing Claudia wasn't asking was obvious. Her tone was almost protective. 

"It's a long story."

The younger woman nodded, obviously knowing she wasn't getting an answer to her real question. "So, you need information, on what? The town? Maybe this family?"

"The family."

A very tiny smile crept onto her face. Claudia looked over her shoulder and then moved closer to the camera. When she spoke her voice was an excited whisper. "This whole thing's a mission? Like from the Regents or something."

"The less you know the better."

Claudia's face grew still. The youngest member of the warehouse team was wiser than her twenty something years.

"I need to find out everything you can about one particular person. All I can find is a wedding and a death announcement. Even in my day, the most insignificant of person had easily researched public history, if you knew where to look."

"And since the invention of the computer, no one, except a small hand-full, are truly off the grid. You think this person doesn't exist? Maybe under some kind of government protection?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps I am grasping at straws."

"You're H.G. Wells. If I were a betting woman I would say you're onto something."

"Something just doesn't fit. And when things don't fit..."

"You see a mystery."

Helena smiled despite herself. "Precisely. Can I trust you will help?"

"Sure. Email me what you have to that same address. I'll see what I can dig up."

"Thank you, Claudia."

"You're welcome. I'll be in touch."

Helena knew if anyone could dig up something it was Claudia. 

\---

He had checked into a hotel using his fake identification and paid in cash. The front desk attendant looked at him wide eyed as she took the money and handed over a set of keys but only after Pete explained he didn't believe in credit card companies. The woman, in her mid fifties with long black hair and thick glasses, nodded at him. "Worse than the mob those companies."

Pete smiled back at her. "Exactly."

The room wasn't much different than the one he had left in Winnipeg. Plenty big enough for a good rest, which would have to wait until Pete finished what he had come to do. Throwing his bag on the bed he headed back downstairs to grab a cab, which he took to the local police station. It was late enough in the morning that he hoped Helena would already be at work. 

Walking into the police station he flashed his Warehouse badge and asked to be taken back to see her. The kid, all of about twenty six, had explained she wasn't in her office but having remembered Pete from the case they had just closed the young man allowed him to go back and wait. It was no wonder the chief of police had managed a crime spree. The police force wasn't exactly hard to get around. 

Opening the door to the office Pete was struck at how sterile it was compared to when they had discovered Helena, having forgotten who she really was, living a life under the name Emily Lake. Emily’s classroom was filled with bright colors and comfortable things, however the woman working in a small town in Wisconsin didn’t allow a drop of color into her private office or worse, a single book that wasn’t related to her work. 

A desk with nothing on it that didn’t have a purpose took up most of the space. Two chairs for guests sat on one side, while a padded chair that didn’t even swivel, much to Pete’s disappointment as he took a seat in it and tried to spin it, took up the other side. Not only were there no books but also there wasn’t a single photo of the family Helena had seemingly been trying to move on with by becoming a part of. The evidence before Pete only reinforced that something was very wrong in Boone.

...

Pete was experiencing with great satisfaction the biggest batch of fried chicken he had ever seen when he felt his body jerk forward and start to fall. The crash of his boots to the floor pulled him from his unintended sleep. 

"Pete, what are you doing here?" Helena said from her place next to her desk. One hand was planted firmly on her hip; the other was gripping a coffee cup. She looked pissed.

"It's not every day I figure out the complicated stuff."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm here to help."

"Help with what?"

Pete stood. "After the number you did on my partner, she couldn't see it, but I could." 

"See what?"

"This isn't some change of pace, a chance at a normal life. You're working."

“Yes, because this is my office and now that the police department is in complete disarray I am likely to be working the rest of the day and well into the night. So if you would excuse me, I really need to get back to it.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I know exactly what you are up to.”

The mug that was in Helena’s hand was placed rather firmly onto the desk. "What did Claudia tell you?"

"This has nothing to do with Claudia. Wait, how is Claudia involved?”

"Never mind." Helena said as she circled around the desk, an obvious attempt at avoidance.

Pete followed her around. "No, not never mind. What about Claudia?"

"I asked her for some computer help since I can barely turn one on. That’s all." Helena said with one of her patented headshakes.

"You're a "woman from another time" but even you’re better with a computer than I am. This isn’t about tech support, Helena and I’m staying right here until you fill me in."

"Pete, leave it be."

Slapping the desk hard enough that he wanted to wince but didn't want Helena to see it, Pete then pumped the air. "I knew it. You're on assignment."

"Pete."

“Which means you need backup."

"You’re delusional. I am living my life far away from the Warehouse."

"Under order of the Regents."

The reference to the secret order of protectors hung in the air and rattled the usually very steadfast time-traveled agent. "Pete, just go back to wherever you were and forget about what you think you know."

"Can't do that."

"Why not?" Her question was almost a yell.

Pete stopped his rapid-fire interrogation technique and looked Helena square in the eyes. "Cause agents look out for one another and, from what I can tell, you're out here alone."

"I'm just fine."

"Actually, you're not."

"Actually, I am."

"Helena, when we left here I was seeing it all wrong. I was only seeing what you wanted me to see and what I, obviously, needed to see, the possibility that this Warehouse life might be able to include a white picket fence and a family at some point. As soon as I put some distance between all of this and what happened, I had one of my feelings, those really bad feelings. If I let you get yourself killed Myka would never recover and I would never forgive myself so, you're stuck with me."

Helena looked from Pete to her shoes and back up at him. Her eyes seemed tired and maybe even a little wet. She was holding back emotions Pete had never seen her display not even when she tried to sacrifice herself for the good of the universe. No words came, which, in his experience, was also something new. Instead, Helena merely nodded in either thanks or defeat. Pete didn’t know which and frankly didn’t care. They were now a team.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

By mid afternoon the hospital was willing, after much back and forth between the American and Canadian governments, to let Myka see the victim. A look at him didn't leave much in the way of evidence nor did the doctor's notes she managed to get her hands on. Every indication was typical for a heart attack but Myka knew better. 

The dead end was frustrating but she was used to it. None of her cases were ever easy. Each one was a mystery to unfold. Some day she hoped she would walk into an unexplained situation that was motivated by an artifact and bag it and tag it before lunch. This case wasn't that day. 

As Steve walked into the patient's room Myka hoped the next clue was about to present itself. "Anything?"

"I dropped in on the Emergency services guys that picked him up. Not exactly helpful although I did get a phone number."

"Guys in a coma and you've got a date. Good for you." Myka realized as the words came out her tone was unintentionally harsh. She had meant it as a joke but there was no way Steve could have read it that way. 

"Give me a little credit. He gave me the phone number and address to where he picked up the other two victims that Artie mentioned. He didn't have anything on this one but the others he offered some insight."

"And?" 

"Not here. The walls might have ears. Lets go somewhere less likely to draw attention."

"Draw attention? Steve, this guy is in a coma."

"I just would rather not be here anymore, okay?"

It was yet another insensitive slip on Myka's part. She hadn't considered Steve's recent bout with death might be making the hospital a hard place to be. Nodding she gestured to the door and followed Steve out of the patient's room. As they walked in the direction of the elevator Myka mentally scolded herself for her short temper. Being tired wasn't Steve's fault. Being stressed wasn't his fault and being heartbroken was absolutely not Steve's fault. 

\---

"I'm helping. So, put me to work." Pete said as he tossed down a random medical journal that had been sitting on Helena's desk.

Helena looked up, annoyed. "There is nothing to investigate until I hear back from Claudia."

"Look at that. Progress. You're finally sharing."

The eye roll that followed his comment was dripping with frustration and a hint of anger.

"If information is what we need let me try guy talk."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Your boyfriend and I seemed to get along,” Pete said as he picked up a pen from her desk and started twirling it between his fingers. “We'll go for beers, talk football, I'll let him bitch about you, guy things, and I'll see if he lets anything important slip."

"I already have more information than I need on Nate."

"I bet," Pete mumbled under his breath louder than he had intended. 

Another eye roll but Helena managed to avoid scolding him and instead started to share. "What I'm missing is anything on his wife."

"Anything?"

"Anything. All that is available is a marriage certificate, and that she died in a horrible car accident. That's it."

"Consider information on its way." Pete said as he bounced up from his chair and out the office door before Helena had the chance to stop him. 

Getting about half way down the hallway Pete realized he didn't know where to go. It was the middle of a workday and he couldn't imagine Helena's former boyfriend was just hanging out at home watching daytime talk shows while his daughter was at school. Pete thought about turning back and asking Helena where to go but instead figured food was never a bad idea. He would go grab them an early lunch.

\---

Having brought over two sandwiches and setting them down, Steve took a seat at the table. Myka gave him a weak smile as she held her coffee cup, letting the warmth from it comfort her. "Sorry about earlier."

"No need to explain. I think I get the gist. The last case couldn't have been easy, Helena and all."

"My screwed up personal life is no reason to snap at you."

"I've been there Myka and if you need someone to kick around a little with Pete gone. I'm your guy."

"Would rather have a friend I could count on."

"Done,” Steve said as he lifted his coffee mug in her direction before taking a sip. “You want to talk about it?"

"Not yet." Myka answered honestly.

"When you do, I'm here. In the meantime, casework to distract?"

"Perfect." Myka said as she took a bite from her sandwich.

"So the EMT didn't have much to say about the recent guy cause coma guy number three wasn’t his pick-up. All he knew was the victim was on the front lawn being worked on when the ambulance arrived. The others he was a first responder on. He noted that the only thing unusual about the medical conditions were the guys ages because it presented exactly like a heart attack."

"So what caught his attention?"

"He said separately he wouldn't have thought anything of it but when it was two guys in the same fraternity he thought drug use."

"As one might."

"But," Steve smiled. "Seems our EMT is a bit of a science fiction and horror book nerd so his imagination went into over drive. What leapt out at him were the guys' room decors. The first one had his walls completely covered with drawings. From what he described it was everything from landscapes to superheroes."

"He found art work unusual?"

"Artwork on every inch, no paint to be seen, and not just one layer but multiple layers of drawings, sketches, and paintings."

"And the second guy?"

"Same multi-layers but instead of artwork there were pages and pages of handwritten notes sprawled and hung everywhere. His desk, the floor, the walls, his bed."

"Were our victims Art or English majors?"

"No. One was pre-med and the other getting his business degree. Here is the really freaky part. Victim number two was the one to call the ambulance for victim number one and he was on the scene when the ambulance arrived. The EMT said our second guy, and the other fraternity brothers, seemed surprised to find the frats most dedicated business major had his walls covered in what looked to be an obsessive amount of artwork."

"What to we know about victim number three?" Myka asked and then took a sip from the paper cup.

"He's not in the fraternity. He's a graduate student getting his masters in music. Claudia said he shared a single class with both of the first two victims but no indication they were friends. However, number three is dating one of the guys in the fraternity and our EMT couldn't swear on it but said he thought he saw our third guy when they were working on guy number two."

"Nice to know campus life has gotten a little more diverse."

Steve nodded. "Indeed."

"So, no signs of drugs or known toxins but three men under the age of twenty-five have each fallen victim to the same signs of cardiac arrest?"

"That about sums it up."

"I guess we should try and gain access to the victim's rooms."

"Check things out for ourselves?"

"Precisely."

\---

As he opened the door to Helena's office, a large sack and a barely balanced cup carrier in his hand, Pete heard a familiar, non-British, voice coming from the direction of Helena’s computer. 

"You were right. She doesn't exist."

Helena let out a sigh. "While I appreciate the work reinforcing my finding, Claudia, this news does little to move me forward." 

"It's not that she doesn't exist." Claudia said with a tone Pete knew to be curiosity. "She doesn't exist in the redacted way." 

"Oh, now that's something." Pete blurted out as he dropped the bag and carrier onto Helena's desk and whipped around to join the web chat.

"Wait. Is that Pete?"

Giving a little wave, Pete smiled. "Hi Claud."

"I thought this was top secret?"

Helena's eye roll reflected back in the small box at the bottom of the screen. "It is. He figured it out on his own and insisted on being backup."

"That's good, because the kind of redacted I found, whatever this is, it's dangerous. Like really dangerous. I found her name and what amounts to the computer version of a completely blacked out document."

Pete did his celebration hand gesture. "Told you so."

"Oh, shut up." Helena snarled at Pete. 

"Look, I'm going to try and see if I can bust past this encryption but it's not going to go as fast as you might need. Since we are trying to be stealthy about it I have to go more tortoise than hare."

"Take whatever time you need Claudia. Pete's got an idea of how to get some basic information in the mean time."

"I do?"

"You do." Helena offered begrudgingly. 

Pete smiled. "Yeah, I do."

Claudia grinned back. "Alright, I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, Claudia."

"You're welcome."

The screen went dark and Pete moved around to unpack the bag. He managed not to gloat. "So I brought lunch."

"Cause you were being nice or because you realized you had no idea where to go."

"I like to think I was being nice and I realized I had no idea where to go."

...

The EMT hadn't been kidding about the first two victim's wall decorations. Myka had only ever witnessed such obsessive wall blanketing when dealing with extremely disturbed individuals. Photos were taken and emailed to the Warehouse incase there was a pattern they were missing. 

Arriving at the apartment building of victim number three, Myka and Steve weren’t getting anywhere until they came across a neighbor who was especially torn up about what happened. 

"He just celebrated his birthday,” The blonde woman said as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “Who has a heart attack at twenty-three? He didn't drink or smoke and was even more vegetarian than I am.”

"So a vegan?" Steve interjected. 

"Yeah, yeah. Nothing but stuff that grows out of the ground and I don't mean weed or anything. He isn't judgy about people using. It just isn't his thing. Is he okay?"

Myka smiled despite the lack of information. "The doctors are monitoring. He's in great hands."

The neighbor again choked back tears. "Good. He and Reggie, Reggie's his boyfriend, are just too perfect for words and he has to be okay."

"I'm sure it means a lot that you are pulling for him." Steve offered. "Were you here when it happened?"

"Reggie and I both. Gary was working in his room on a new composition while Reggie and I were playing video games. We heard this loud thump. At first we thought he just knocked over something but the music didn’t continue so we went to check things out. When we found Gary on the floor and out of it, we thought maybe he just needed some fresh air."

"Is the air quality bad in the building?" Steve asked in an attempt to follow the blonde’s logic.

"Nothing like that. He had been holed up in his room for two straight days trying to finish the piece he was working on. So Reggie and I helped him outside and got him to walk around a little. Take deep breaths. Stuff like that. He was lucid but after a little bit he started mumbling something, and then humming something, and then he just dropped. When I noticed his eyes rolling back I knew something was really wrong. Reggie called nine one one and I started CPR, I work summers at a kid's camp so I'm certified."

"It's possible your quick thinking saved his life." Steve said as he laid a sympathetic hand on the girl's shoulder. 

"Thanks. I just want Gary to be okay."

Myka nodded. "You didn't happen to notice anything odd in his room."

"You mean like smell a gas leak or something?"

"Or something that seemed out of the ordinary?” Myka continued. “Any little thing might assist his doctors with his treatment."

"I didn't but I wasn't really looking. Do you want to see for yourself? I have a key to his place for emergencies and if you think you can find something that might help."

"We wouldn't want to overstep," Steve said laying it on thick. 

It seemed to work as the girl smiled. "Come with me.”

\---

The main living space didn't show any unusual signs but as they opened the door to Gary's room Myka was surprised to see it was perfectly, meticulously, clean. The tan colored walls were empty. His bed was neatly made with military corners. A half empty glass of water sat on a coaster on the nightstand. Everything in the space was clean, orderly, and what little sentimental items there were in the room were centered on music or his relationship. 

The only thing out of place was the chair next to his keyboard, which was knocked over, and what looked to be a large binder lying on the floor next to it. From her vantage point Myka noticed it was filled with hundreds of pages of paper. If the two pages she could see were any indication it was likely filled with sheet music. 

"Is he always this neat?" Steve asked as he took in the space. 

"Oh, this is even jumbled for Gary. He was diagnosed in high school with OCD. He takes medication to calm most of his symptoms but everything still has to be organized or he gets worked up. That's why the rest of the apartment is just as spotless. No clutter."

Steve pointed towards the keyboard. "So the chair and binder fell over when he did?"

"Probably. He would never have anything look like that in here."

Myka started to take in the photos in the frames on the dresser. "What else would you say is unusual?"

The neighbor glanced around the room. "The water glass would be long since removed but perhaps since he was so focused on his project he managed to let it slide. The headphones to the keyboard hanging like that would never do. He was usually wearing them or they were hung on that hook on the side."

Myka approached the keyboard to investigate the headphones while Steve moved to the closet.

As Steve reached to slide open the door he turned back. "I'm guessing everything in here is hung by kind and color."

"Oh definitely. And always dry cleaned or at least pressed."

Steve slid the door open and found exactly that, each shirt, whether dressy or casual, was perfectly pressed and hung from lightest to darkest. The ones in dry cleaning bags were sorted the same way but separate from the ones not in bags. On the other side the pants were similarly organized. 

Picking up the chair, Myka took in the keyboard. It was rather expensive looking for a graduate student but she supposed if it were the young man's area of study something more than a Casio was necessary. Grabbing the dangling headphones Myka placed them softly on the hook. Next she grabbed the binder and placed it back on the keyboard. It was indeed filled with hundreds of pages of what looked to be a very complicated musical score of some kind. "What was he working on?"

"The project was for his composition class. I'm an environmental chemistry major so it's over my head. Reggie would probably know more about it. He's a vocal major so he can read that stuff."

Noticing that the small cup of writing utensils on the sill next to the keyboard had also been knocked over Myka bent down and began returning them to their home. It was a small black mug with music notes. The utensils ranged from lead loaded pencils to the finest of vintage looking pens.

"Where do you think we might find Reggie?" Steve asked. 

"If he's not at the hospital, he's probably back at his place trying to get some rest. He was awfully shaken up by what happened."

Turning one of the pens in her hand, Myka nodded. "Understandable. We appreciate you helping us try and get to the bottom of this." Pulling a sheet of paper from the notebook in her blazer pocket Myka used the pen in her hand and jotted her cell number on it. "If you think of anything else that can help us try and figure out what happened, give us a call."

The young woman took the paper offered and looked at it. "Absolutely and thank you for trying to help my friend."

"It's what we do." Steve offered as he moved to the bedroom door and out into the living room. 

Myka took one last look at the young man's bedroom. Tucked her notepad and the pen she had taken from the floor in her blazer pocket and followed Steve and the young woman out of the room. It hadn't exactly been a lead but it hadn't been a dead-end either. Two victims overcome by some kind of artist obsession while another young man who had OCD was seemingly struck by nothing but the attack. Hopefully with the latest bit of information Artie and Claudia could fine tune what they were looking for in terms of an artifact.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Pete crumbled up the wrapper from the food he had chased down with a soda. "So he always goes to that diner after work? Makes it easier for me to find him. Didn't you ever cook?"

Helena looked at Pete like she wanted to throw something heavy at his head. "During the week I worked late and Adelaide had stuff every day after school until around 7pm. So it was easier for him."

"Busy kid."

"Well rounded."

"Over extended." Pete counted.

"Gifted."

There was no point continuing the verbal sparing match. Helena had a soft spot for the young girl and there would be no winning where she was concerned. "So he goes to this diner?" 

Helena nodded and took another bite of her sandwich.

It made sense. Most guys that Pete knew didn't cook if they didn't have to. During Pete's years before working for the Warehouse his dinners were always takeout or beer nuts and booze while sitting at a bar. The later got him into trouble. "What do we know about his wife?" 

"They married. They had a daughter. She died in the car accident that Adelaide survived when she was three."

Pete leaned in. His curiosity suddenly peaked. "That can't be everything?"

"That is all there is on her."

"That's not even all there is on you and you are aren't supposed to still be around since you were born in, what, the 1800's."

"Which is why my curiosity is further peaked."

"That and my mother sent you here on Regents’ business. She told you nothing else except to come here and look out for them?"

"That was it. Look out for her and keep her safe.”

“Her? So it was about Adelaide and not Nate.”

“Your mother's instructions were that she was to be protected at all cost.”

Pete shook his head. “How do they expect you to pull that off when you don’t know what you are protecting her from? She’s a tiny human they need protecting from everything from processed foods to what passes for music these days.”

Helena shrugged. “It's all she told me." 

"And there hasn’t been anything out of the ordinary."

"You mean except for an artifact in town that turns people into Cavemen? No. Like I said, nothing else out of the ordinary."

“How do you know that wasn’t it and your now free to move on? 

“I know the same way any of us who have worked for the Warehouse know.”

Pete nodded. They had ways of letting you know what they needed from you and when the assignment was complete. "And you never bothered to dig until now? Sounds nothing like the Helena I know."

"I was tired, Pete."

"You were scared."

A small, unconvincing, laugh that was an attempt at denial was Helena's only response.

"Look, I understand we aren't the best of friends and for a long time I hated you,"  
Pete could feel his anger building, "but damn it, you love her." There, he had said it. These two stubborn women could deny it, and run from it but they couldn't hide from it.

"Don't try and be my therapist, Pete. It doesn't suit you."

"Someone has to knock some sense into you."

"It's better this way."

"It's not." Pete said and then he leaned back in the chair, upset for getting so worked up. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Look, I don't want to argue with you or 'shrink' you. What I want to do is make sure we don’t find ourselves burying another one of our own any time soon. Both for your sake and, yes, for Myka's."

"Thank you, Pete. I understand what you are trying to do." Helena said. "I just can't handle all of it right now."

Pete nodded but made a mental note of what Helena had said, 'right now'. It seemed a good sign that the Myka piece of it wasn’t a lost cause. 

Taking one last sip of his drink, Pete stood. "Write down the address of this diner. I've got work to do. Without any idea of what the danger might be we can’t help the kid and it seems my mother isn’t just going to come out and tell us. She wouldn’t, right?”

“You tell me.”

"Nope. If she hasn't already it’s unlikely. What’s the address?”

Helena scribbled down the information and handed it over to him. As their eyes locked Pete saw just the hint of tears not shed in the British woman's eyes.  
Waiting until he reached the door to her office, Pete turned around. "Helena."

She looked up at him

"Consider calling her."

\---

"To the longest day ever," Myka said as she clinked glasses with Steve and then took a sip of her wine.

"And we aren't any closer to finding the artifact." Steve followed suit with a long swig of his draft beer.

"We will catch a break, eventually. We always do."

"And at least the hotel doesn't suck and the dinner was great."

Myka took another sip from her glass. "This wine is better." She saw the sympathetic way he was looking at her and smiled. 

"You want to talk about it?"

"Won't change anything," Myka replied. "And I would just end up boring you."

"You wouldn't be boring me, Myka. Heck, it would keep my mind off my own drama."

"Coming back to life is way bigger than what I'm dealing with."

Steve softly laughed. "Surprisingly, it doesn't. You guys have way more to process about what happened to me. My experience is pretty straightforward. One minute I was gone and the next I was back. For me it was like taking a very long nap. Come on, humor me. Tell me what happened in Boone."

Myka lifted the wine glass and took another sip. "Maybe we should have ordered something a little stronger."

"Tequila?"

"Scotch?"

"That serious?" Steve smiled, "I'll be right back."

\---

Pete's chat with Nate had been a bust. The heartbroken man was very forthcoming, perhaps thanks to the two empty beers in front of him when Pete sat down. He felt betrayed by what he had learned about Helena, was now hyper protective of his daughter, and generally wanted to put everything behind him. If the Regents expected Helena to protect Adelaide it would be almost impossible now. There would be little in the way of access to her based on what Nate had said to Pete.

As much as he had shared his feelings about Helena, Nate's details about his wife were scarce. At first Pete thought Nate was the kind of guy that didn’t want to dwell on the pain of losing his wife but as two beers became three and Nate’s walls started to come down further something shifted. His feelings about her death were raw but there was fogginess to the details that couldn't be blamed on the man's blood alcohol level. It was like it he was drawing a blank where actual tangible memories were concerned. 

No matter how much booze Pete had consumed at the height of his alcoholism, he could have picked his ex-wife Amanda out in a line up and to this day he knew how it felt to have his hands running thru her blonde hair. At one point in the conversation, Nate couldn't remember the color of his wife's eyes. 

Pete knew his mother's involvement in Helena's relocation was plenty to prove something very important was going on but when added to the mounting blank slate of Nate's deceased wife, someone was holding something back. This only led to Pete’s feelings of growing danger. If something didn’t break soon he was going to call his mother and confront her, and the fall out be damned. Information was how they stayed safe working for the Warehouse and they had experienced enough lose already. Helena wasn't, again, going to be the latest in a long line of deaths. 

After pulling a five from his wallet and dropping it on the counter to cover more than his fair share of the fries he had eaten, Pete said goodnight to Nate and headed out. As he hit the parking lot, the Farnsworth buzzed in his jacket, so he headed for his rental car in case it was Artie checking in.

"Hey, I might have something for you," Claudia said as she appeared in the circular black and white window on the device. "Or more like a lack of something."

"More dead ends aren't what I need, Claud."

"Well, this dead end screams big trouble."

"What kind of big trouble?"

"The super secret, locked down tighter than anything I’ve tried to hack, trouble. It’s not just that it's all redacted. Even after working on things for a couple hours, I can’t even get the words ‘and’ or ‘the’ out of this thing. Pete, whatever this is, it’s really big and with the way we know things can be around here, I’m betting really dangerous.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Claud.”

“Claudia!” the voice of Artie could be heard barking in the background. 

“Crap, I’ve got to go. I’ll keep trying and Pete, be careful. I don’t like how this one feels." 

“I will and thanks,” Pete said and then quickly shut his Farnsworth and tucked it back in his pocket. 

He would talk things over with Helena but it might be time for desperate measures.

\---

Two hours and two drinks later, Myka was back in her hotel room, ready for bed, but not the least bit tired. Sharing everything with Steve meant that during every quiet moment thoughts of Helena emerged and wouldn’t go away. Everything from the memory of their final night together to the feelings as Helena grew smaller in the rear view mirror assaulted Myka’s mind. She wasn't sleeping any time soon. 

Without even changing from dinner, Myka settled into the chair in her hotel room with a book in her hand. She had been meaning to start this particular classic for a while now but hadn't had the time. The case was still without a direction so it seemed the perfect opportunity to start a novel that made War and Peace seem like a short story. 

Opening to the first page she heard a muffled ringing coming from her jacket pocket. It was late, but not too late, so it might have been the student she had given her number to with more information. Moving across the room to where her jacket was lying on the bed, Myka pulled it out and grabbed the call. 

It was Claudia. 

"Hi Claud."

"Hey, Myka.

"Why didn't you use my Farnsworth?"

"I tried. You didn't pick up and neither did Jinx." 

Myka didn't need to see Claudia's face to know she had been freaked when she couldn't reach him. The youngest of the team had been hit hardest by Jinx's brush with death so her concerned tone was understandable. "Sorry, Claud, we must have left them in the rental car. We're fine. Just finished dinner and now heading to bed."

"Of course, yeah, good, good."

"So what's up?"

"No leads yet on the artifact or the stuff you sent to me this afternoon but we might have had a hit on another victim and this ones still alive and not in a coma."

"Great, we could use a break."

"Well, don't get too excited. She's alive but she's a ward of the state mental hospital."

"What happened?"

"Everything lines up with the other victims. Driven, in her twenties, although out of school. Very gifted, like almost Doogie Howser, gifted. Seems one day, about six hours into a double shift, a highly regarded emergency room doctor, drops to the floor in the middle of a lecture she was presenting to a room full of pre-med students from the university and some of her peers."

"And then what?"

"Her fellow doctors swarmed in and went to work on her. The report I 'procured'..."

Myka smiled, "Hacked.”

"Located." Claudia said with a laugh. "The report said her vitals were off the chart. Her blood pressure was so high she should have been dead before she hit the floor. Only explanation her attending could surmise was that she was an adrenaline junkie, skydiving, rock climbing, bungee jumping, that kind of thing, and maybe that had lessened the effect."

"But we know better."

"Exactly."

"So how did she end up in an institution?"

"Manic episodes. Mid way thru her recovery, soon after she was taken off a ventilator, she completely snapped. Would ramble day and night about medical procedures. A co-worker described it like she was giving lectures while on Amphetamines."

"Send the information. Steve and I will go check it out tomorrow."

"In the mean time, I will have the computer continue to fine tune the artifact search with this new development."

"Great. Anything else?" Myka asked.

Claudia took a deep breath on the other end of the call and it was obvious where she was heading next. "Myka, is he really doing okay?"

"He's really doing okay, Claud. Steve is more worried about us."

"Typical, Jinxy."

"Any news from Pete's adventure with his ex and her unexplained phenomenon?"

"Um, nope. Nothing yet.” Claudia replied rather quickly. “Hey, look I think I hear Artie heading this way. I better get back to it.”

"Of course. Let's talk tomorrow after we follow up on this new lead."

"Great." 

Myka hung up and then opened her email to glance at Claudia's information. She didn't make it past the first page when her phone rang again, startling her. The number was unknown but she figured better to answer in case, this time, it was the student from earlier. 

"Myka Bering."

"I hope I am not calling too late." It wasn’t the girl from campus. It was Helena.

Myka swallowed hard and moved to the bed, taking a seat. "I'm, no, I couldn't sleep so was about to do some reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Don't know yet. I haven't started it."

"I see."

"Is everything, okay, Helena?" Myka asked far more curtly than she would have liked. 

"Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to call. Say hello. Hear how things are going."

"You realize you are terrible at small talk."

A small laugh came over the line. "Even after so many years it's perhaps the one thing I don't excel at."

Myka smiled despite herself but the worst of it was she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to shut Helena out but was failing miserably. The dynamic the two of them shared since the first day they met clicked right in. "Just the one thing?"

"No one's perfect." 

Warning bells went off in Myka’s brain. This felt like flirting. They couldn’t be flirting. She couldn’t handle that so her voice went cold. "Right."

"What’s the case? If you don't mind me asking."

Technically, it was all a part of a top-secret investigation into yet another cursed artifact. Technically, Myka wasn't allowed to share what she was doing with someone outside the Warehouse but this was Helena, one of the greatest minds ever to walk the earth and a former agent, so maybe she was the perfect person to look at the case from a new direction. "Young people, way to young to be having heart attacks, no drugs in their systems, and no history or medical reason for their strong hearts to be giving out. According to Claudia, the only probable surviving victim, who isn't in a coma, was an adrenaline junkie doctor who dropped during a lecture. During her recovery she snapped so bad she's been institutionalized."

"Common factors?"

"Different ages, different genders, different manic obsessions manifesting in their lives, different career paths except for two of the possible victims who both have their careers focused on the medical profession."

"Nothing else?"

"Perhaps the only other possible connection was they were all very driven and focused on succeeding."

"Have Claudia throw that in the mix. Look into if their drive to succeed was long standing or if it was something new that presented in or around the time of the attacks. Might be a new way to try and narrow down any artifacts not accounted for at the Warehouse."

"Thanks," Myka said with a nod.

"You're welcome."

With work talk out of the way, Myka was stuck. There was so much she wanted to say, no, needed to say, but she couldn't. "It was nice of you to call."

"I wanted to check in," Helena said and then fell silent for a moment. "It's what friends do."

Suddenly, Myka hated that word. "Yeah, right. Look, I've got to get an early start tomorrow and I'm still dragging from yesterday but thanks for calling."

"In case you need it. Let me give you my cell phone number."

"Isn't this the number?"

"No. I'm calling from my office. Do you have a pen?"

"One second," Myka said as she checked the top of the desk. There was a notepad but no pen. Reaching into the pocket of her suit jacket, she pulled out the one she had haphazardly pocketed earlier in the day. Removing the top from the fountain pen she tucked the phone under her ear. "Go ahead."

"It's 555-629-4780. If you need anything."

Myka wrote it down and then stood back up and moved to where a bottle of water sat on the small wet bar. She put the pen down and opened the water but didn't take a sip. "Thanks for checking in."

"Of course. Um, good night."

"Good night, Helena."

Hanging up the phone Myka stood frozen. Her eyes locked on the open bottle of water, the fountain pen, the black counter top, and the brown rug, every detail of each she tried to commit to memory as she tucked her cell in the pocket of her jeans. She then took a deep breath and could have sworn she could hear her own heart beating in her ears. 

Snapping herself out of it, she picked up the bottle of water in one hand and took a long drink from it. She put the cap back on and placed it back on the counter.  
Seeing the fountain pen she picked it up. It was black and very plain with a beautiful gold tip. Staring at it for a second, Myka then started twirling it between her fingers. It was something she had never done before but she recalled watching her father do it sometimes when he would be in his office balancing the family checkbook or working on a crossword puzzle. It reminded her of home. 

As Myka moved across the hotel room and back to the chair by the window she continued spinning it as she picked up the book. Placing it in her lap, she pulled her legs up some, and turned to page one. 

At least Myka would always have books. Reading was the one thing in the whole world that provided enough solitude for three lifetimes. It was time to get lost in someone else's story for a while.


End file.
